September, my old friend.

You’re finally here.

 

I push the door open and the breeze meets me, cool against my skin, and I pull my backpack tighter against my back as I step onto the sidewalk. It’s not even 9am, but a smile spreads across my face as the friendly coolness greets me, a release from the weeks of heat.

 

I have been looking forward to this for months now- the kind breeze, the glorious sunshine, the scarves and boots and flannel. September does something for my soul, something therapeutic and vital to my imagination. And I wish I knew what it was so I could share it with you, but I don’t.

 

All I know is I need September, and I’m so glad it’s here.

 

 

 

I wish I could explain this to you, this phenomenon of September. September brings out the very best in me: my creativity and passion and peace and determination. I am almost always in a good mood in September. I write 2x as much as normal in September. I laugh more, I smile more, I feel more sure of myself. When the weather gets colder and the leaves start falling, I become the very best version of myself on a more consistent basis than every other month of the year.

 

I wish I knew why, because it would be great to recreate that! But maybe that’s the mystery of September, one that I am better off not knowing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for coming, September. It’s good to have you back.

 

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